


the seed planted in my heart will surely grow a bud one day

by FluffyFyuu



Category: EXO (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Fantasy, Alternate Universe - Royalty, Arranged Marriage, Bad Parenting, Fluff, Happy Ending, Heartbreak, Language of Flowers, Lord Kim Minseok, M/M, Mage Kim Jongdae, Mutual Pining, Not Actually Unrequited Love, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-15
Updated: 2019-12-15
Packaged: 2021-01-26 02:16:21
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 19,607
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21366526
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FluffyFyuu/pseuds/FluffyFyuu
Summary: Floriography, ˌflɒriˈɒɡrəfi : noun, also known as Language of Flowers.A way of communicating one’s thoughts and emotions through the use of flowers and their symbolic significance. Their meaning can vary depending on the origin of the language guide, but the main motif may remain similar.May be misunderstood, cause euphoria or break hearts - please use with caution.
Relationships: Kim Jongdae | Chen/Kim Minseok | Xiumin
Comments: 22
Kudos: 107
Collections: ExOnce Upon A Time: Round II





	the seed planted in my heart will surely grow a bud one day

**Author's Note:**

> _*The title is from the song “Kokoro no hana wo sakaseyou” by Ikimonogakari._  

> 
> Prompt #110
> 
> Thank you to my buddy/beta for the help, especially for all my language questions and emotional support!
> 
> I tried to make this sweet and light, a cute little oneshot - but it got a bit out of hand and I’m sorry that it probably isn’t as fluffy as you wanted, dear prompter.
> 
> Also, the depiction of royalty and their social rules isn't that detailed, in favour of keeping things on the fluffier side - still, I'm sorry for any inaccuracies. 
> 
> The dictionary entries found throughout the story are a mixture of various flower dictionaries. There could still be errors in terms of gardening – I am no gardener and to be honest, I’m not even capable of keeping a succulent alive. OTL 
> 
> Here's a map of the garden for a better understanding:
> 
> Anyways, please enjoy the story.
> 
> * * *

Gloxinia, ɡlɒkˈsɪnjə : noun

Any plant of the genus Gloxinia, having bluish, white or purple-pink flowers. Used to portray “Love at first Sight”.

Jongdae remembers the day he was introduced to the young Lord named Kim Minseok as if it was yesterday.

He was six at that time, old enough to start working in the gardens and as the second son of the head gardener, he had to meet Lord Kim.

Not that Minseok’s father didn’t know about him yet – Jongdae just wasn’t old enough before to be of interest to actually meet him. But Lord Kim prefers to know how the people working for him look like and now that Jongdae would be seen in the garden, it was required that he presents himself formally to his Lord.

His father Jonghyuk guided the way and told Jongdae to stay quiet. He was busy anyway, staring at everything around him with his mouth wide open in amazement. The huge entrance hall was overwhelmingly white and clean. There were several flowerpots hanging from the ceiling, with arrangements of purple Gloxinias and a white plant Jongdae didn’t know yet.

Before he could look at more of the big room, his father stopped and Jongdae almost collided with him. In front of them were two persons, an older man who had to be Lord Kim and a boy who seemed to be Jongdae’s age.

After only a single look, Jongdae could tell - he’s beautiful. With golden feline eyes, slightly curved eyebrows and shiny rose-coloured lips. The boy emitted a royal aura - standing straight with tense shoulders. His shiny brown hair was combed to part in the middle and he held his little arms behind his back. The clothes were clean and looked very formal, not really comfortable.

With a look at the older man, Jongdae realized that both had the same posture and facial expression. Royal, reserved and - waiting.

The movement of his father bowing took his attention and he saw him motioning to him to do the same. When Jongdae straightened his back again, he caught the look of the boy. His eyebrows raised in surprise when rosy lips stretched into a delicate smile that Jongdae would have missed if he’d blinked.

There was a pressure at his neck and Jongdae looked back to his father, who told him to introduce himself. Jongdae’s eyes found the face of Lord Kim and a big, tense smile could be seen on the man’s lips – a complete difference to his son.

“I-I am Jongdae. Pleased to meet you, Lord Kim.” Jongdae’s voice was shy, but he was told to not break eye-contact to avoid appearing insincere. “I will give my b-best to take care of the flowers and make the garden b-beautiful.”

Lord Kim chuckled, but it didn’t help to ease Jongdae’s nervousness.

“And I am thankful that you use your gift to serve my family and me. Since you’re of similar age, I thought you’d be interested to meet my son.” He put a hand on the shoulder of the boy, who tensed even more under the touch. “This is Minseok, my only heir and your future Lord. His lessons often take place at the rosarium, so you’ll be seeing each other from time to time. Would you converse with Jongdae a bit, son? I have to discuss new motifs for the garden with Jonghyuk.”

Minseok nodded.

“Yes, father.”

Jongdae noticed with a frown how dull his voice sounded, but he didn’t say anything because his own father kneeled beside him and looked at him with an apologetic expression.

“This will take some time, bud. Join Jongdeok at the greenhouse when you finished talking, but don’t waste too much of the young Lord’s time.” He ruffled Jongdae’s hair, which he endured with an annoyed frown and then both men left the room.

With a shy smile, Jongdae turned to the young Lord and was met with a reserved expression. Not knowing what to say, he waited for him to speak first.

“Say, Jongdae. Are you genuinely looking forward to work for my family? I can imagine you’d want to do other things.”

Minseok’s taunting voice surprised Jongdae after the brief smile earlier, but he was able to hide his startled expression with a shake of his head.

“No, I love flowers. Your garden is very big and has many flowers, why would I not want to be there?”

“I guess that answer is acceptable.”

That sounded like he passed a test, but Jongdae didn’t know which one. With a look into Minseok’s eyes, he could see how he was still observing him. But why? Was there something on Jongdae’s clothes that he keeps staring at?

With a sudden embarrassment, Jongdae patted down his brown pants in hope to get rid of the stubborn remnants of earth. He ate breakfast with Baekhyun this morning and there was a small scrabble for the dried plums. Jongdae fell, but at the end he got them and it was fun to skirmish with his friend.

He didn’t know anything about Minseok, but there was something that told him the young Lord doesn’t get to have fun often. With a brave feeling he spoke.

“What do you like to do for fun?”

Minseok looked surprised at his question.

“Well … I like to read. Fantasy novels and such literature.”

“Oh, I bet you’d be a perfect fairy prince!” Jongdae grinned, pleased with his idea.

Minseok golden eyes widened even more and his rosy lips opened.

“How do you get such a peculiar idea?”

“Well …” A sudden shyness made it difficult to keep eye-contact. “My friends like to play scenes of the books they read. And you would be a beautiful fairy prince, with your-your nice lips, shiny hair and royal looks.”

“Oh …” Minseok’s cheeks reddened and Jongdae couldn’t stop himself from grinning at the cute sight. “Thank you for the compliment, Jongdae.”

They shared a smile and Jongdae had a hard time to not stare at the adorable scrunched up eyes. He felt warm inside, the sight lightened his nervousness and let his heart beat faster.

But Minseok’s expression turned sad.

“It sounds like fun, yet I’m afraid I will never join your friends’ re-enactment of book scenes.”

Jongdae’s curled lips turned down at his words.

“Don’t you get to have some fun?”

“Not everybody has the luxury of fun.” Minseok looked bitter. “Now, please excuse me. It was a nice conversation, Jongdae. I wish you a good day.”

“Oh …” Jongdae wanted to say more, but he wasn’t allowed to say anything against the obvious words of the young Lord, signalling the end of their exchange. “Of course … I hope you have a nice day, too.”

After they bowed, Minseok left the room through the same door as their fathers did. The echo of his steps resonated throughout the big entrance hall.

Jongdae looked around one last time and with a frown he made his way to the greenhouse. The young Lord’s words didn’t want to leave his thoughts.

He felt pity for Minseok.

No boy should see fun as a luxury. But his father seemed to expect a lot of him …

Beautiful golden eyes and a smile crossed Jongdae’s mind.

With a sudden determination, he vowed to himself to help the boy smile more and have fun. Perhaps he’ll be able to make the young Lord happy more often.

A warm feeling found its way to his cheeks at the thought.

Acacia, əˈkeɪʃə : noun

A small tree or shrub belonging to the genus Acacia, in the mimosa family, having clusters of small yellow flowers. Meanings can vary from “Concealed Love, Chaste Love” to “Beauty in Retirement”.

Agapanthus, /agapanthus/ : noun

Any plant of the genus Agapanthus, in the amaryllis family, having sword-shaped leaves and blue-purple or white flowers. Used to convey “Secret Love.”

At first, Jongdae didn’t think much of it.

Since it’s Tuesday he works at the glasshouse, alongside his brother Jongdeok. When Jongdae is on the way to the impressive glass building, he has to walk across the rosarium and then - he’ll see him.

Each morning, when the day is still young and only servants should be awake – Minseok can already be spotted moving inside his room. There is light shimmering through soft blue curtains, which are swaying in a gentle breeze. Each morning and evening when Jongdae looks at the young Lord’s window – it is always opened, signalling Minseok’s presence.

It tempts him to stop on his way. To pretend he’s checking the surrounding shrubs’ shape for accuracy when in truth, his eyes can’t let go of the sight of moving curtains. Sometimes he even gets a glimpse of Minseok. His shiny brown hair or his slender hands opening a drawer.

And in the beginning, he didn’t think much of it.

Because at first, his thoughts remained their innocent nature - pondering about how to make the young Lord smile. Since their introduction, they didn’t have another conversation unfortunately. But Jongdae made an oath to himself and he strives to be faithful to it.

Ever since he’s able to grow plants out of seeds, he uses his ability to gift flowers to Minseok. He doesn’t know if it actually helps to make the young Lord smile, but he prefers to think it does - even if they weren’t always pretty.

The first flowers that found their way onto the windowsill were branches of Acacia. But due to the still new way to use his magic plus his nervousness, the blossoms weren’t of the correct colour. Or with his second attempt, they weren’t ready to bloom.

But Jongdae improved his ability since then and there is a different flower in his hands this morning. A delicate stem rests between his fingers and the blue blossoms of the Agapanthus seem ready to make golden eyes glow.

With a careful look around, Jongdae checks if it’s safe to cross the lawn in front of Minseok’s window. He’s lucky, no one is looking and with fast steps he hurries across the grass, glad that the part here is one of the narrower ones. He puts the flower onto the sill, careful not to crush the petite blossoms.

His eyes try to see beyond the blue curtains and with an embarrassed blush, he realizes how many rules he’s breaking again. But he can’t keep himself from tiptoeing in front of the window, trying to catch sight of the young Lord inside.

He can’t see any sign of Minseok, but he hears a soft hum filling the air. His curled lips stretch into a smile, glad that the young Lord is apparently in a good mood. After listening for a couple more seconds, Jongdae retreats from the window – he knows that he can’t linger too long.

Neither servants nor other nobles would be thrilled to catch him at the window of Lord Kim’s only heir. It isn’t acceptable to breach beyond the social class you are born into.

That’s why at first, he thought not much about it. He didn’t expect of his childish oath to make the young Lord smile to grow into more.

Because now?

Now that he got addicted to the sweet humming voice, the sight of slender wrists and shiny hair.

Now that his heart skips a beat every time he thinks of the young Lord.

Now that he becomes aware of the grand distance between them each day.

Oh, he thinks a lot about it.

Juniper, ˈʤuːnɪpə : noun

Any evergreen, coniferous shrub or tree of the genus Juniperus, having cones and needle- or scale-like leaves with a green-bluish colour. Its meaning is “Protection”.

When Minseok sits down and opens the journal, his hands shake and he has to take a deep breath before he can start to write down the recent events. To organize his jumbled thoughts, he begins with the start of his day.

There was an unusual plant on his windowsill this morning. Not a delicate flower like the last months – but a lone green rather blueish branch of some coniferous tree, almost silver at the tips of its needles.

He almost didn’t realize it was for him – since it’s a different plant than usual, he thought someone might have misplaced it. But when he got closer and caught sight of a small note, Minseok knew it was deliberately placed.

_Stay safe._

He appreciates the words, especially because he had to travel quite a distance today.

While he tries to sketch the plant onto the paper, his cheeks start to burn. Since he started to receive flowers, he’d try to make a note about what kind it is and documents it in his journal. Because sadly, Minseok must keep this to himself, this attention - these _gifts._

His mother would be furious if she knew he has a secret admirer. Her anger wouldn’t be because of the prospect of her son being courted. No, it would be fuelled by her closed-mindedness. It is unacceptable for her that the person’s identity remains a secret, that it even could be a _mage_.

With a bitter smile, Minseok corrects himself – not just a mage, but a person that wants Minseok to be genuinely happy.

Because apparently his parents don’t see such luxury for him in his near future.

The tip of his pencil breaks and Minseok grits his teeth at the thought.

He knew the travel to his aunt wasn’t just to see her after she recovered from a serious fever. His mother seemed unusually talkative on the way there and yet her conversation with his aunt was kept short.

Because, the visit wasn’t really important to his mother.

She just wanted a pretence to force Minseok to talk with her and not evade the conversation by faking some reason to leave like usual. Trapped in the noisy car, he remembers how thrilled she was to tell him the _good news_.

An arranged marriage.

Oh, lucky him.

His hands start to shake again as the anger boils through his veins.

Minseok always thought he’ll be spared the fate of an unhappy marriage - a marriage meant to raise their prestige and not out of genuine interest in each other. He thought he’d find his special person during one of his travels, introducing them to his parents with a proud smile.

But now?

Now, he’ll have to endure noisy private balls, shallow conversations and insincere courting – driven by greed.

With a sigh, Minseok rubs his eyes. At least he’s allowed to select who he’ll be spending the rest of his life with. Out of the group of people his parents see fit, of course.

Dread rises at the thought of the superficial persons who will try to convince him to choose them by ignoring his actual personality. Instead, they’ll be trying to woo his parents.

Forlorn, he stares at the incomplete drawing of the branch. Since his pencil would need to be sharpened and his hands shake too much to continue anyway, he puts the stationary away – neatly arranged in pencil holders.

Minseok stands up and walks to his canopy bed, huffing when his body gets engulfed by fluffy blankets. With his gaze on the veils surrounding him, separating him from the world – he wishes they would keep him from the unfairness of life as well.

Sweet William, ˈswi:t ˈwɪlɪəm : noun

A species of flowering plants of the genus Dianthus, in the carnation family, ranging from red and pink to purple flowers. Its meaning is “Grant me one smile”.

This morning, there isn’t a breeze in the air to let the blue curtains sway.

Jongdae halts in his steps, an unpleasant feeling fills him while he makes sure to stay undetected – then hurrying across the lawn. When he reaches the window, he puts todays flower onto the windowsill – it’s a pretty Sweet William with pink blossoms and a delicate stem. His gaze wanders and Jongdae notes that some plants in the flowerbox are wilting and that they should be replaced.

A crash interrupts his thoughts and Jongdae realizes with worry that it came from the young Lord’s room. Tiptoeing to look above the windowsill, he catches sight of the back of Minseok – he’s close to the window. In front of his feet are big white ceramic shards, apparently from a cup and luckily without any content.

With concern creasing his eyebrows, Jongdae can’t believe his ears when he hears the young Lord curse.

“Shit!“ Minseok kneels down to collect the shards. “I hate th-“

“Wait!” Jongdae’s mouth seems to move on its own. “Don’t injure yourself, my Lord!”

Said young man looks at him with wide eyes, left hand outstretched over the shards but not moving further. The air is suddenly filled with a weird tension as Jongdae realizes his mistake. Did he really yell at the young Lord, without permission to speak as well?

“I-eh, I deeply apologize, my Lord.” Jongdae tries to see the still frozen expression of his Lord solely as a sign of surprise. “Please forgive me, I was worried about your well-being.”

At that, golden eyes regain emotion – they turn surprisingly tender.

“All is fine.” Minseok slowly starts to put shards onto his palm. His face turns glum and his voice sounds grim. “I appreciate your concern.”

But Jongdae’s concern doesn’t get better at the young Lord’s words – he doesn’t appear to be harmed, but something seems to dampen his mood.

And if it is one thing Jongdae doesn’t like, it’s to see those rosy lips pulled down into a tense frown.

“May I speak?”

Minseok sends him another surprised look, but it helps to lighten his negative expression.

“You may.”

“Please be careful, my Lord. Even if your hands stay unharmed, the echo of the crash may linger in your mind. Don’t let what’s happened erase the chance of this day’s possibilities.”

Curved eyebrows are still pulled up, but the frown has completely vanished. Minseok stares at him with his golden eyes widened and Jongdae doesn’t know where the bravery of his words came from. He doesn’t have any left to say more.

The young Lord is the first to speak again. He stands up and lets the shards fall onto the desk beside him. His expression is more tender now, but still downcast and his gaze seems frozen on the shards.

“Thank you.”

Jongdae frowns. His voice sounds frail and he wishes to cheer Minseok up, but doesn’t know what to say. His eyes stray from the young Lord’s silhouette, wandering around and Jongdae notices how tidy it is - especially the desk. Besides the ceramic shards, there are various stationary items organized in stylish containers and on the left side, a pile of books with their edges aligned. Next to it is a journal, it’s well used - according to its worn bookmark peeking out at the bottom.

A quick look at Minseok shows that the young Lord is now watching him with a curious gaze.

Jongdae averts his eyes, embarrassed to be caught staring at the personal belongings. His cheeks start to grow warm and he sees the flower which he put onto the windowsill earlier. Reminded of his original task, a bold idea forms in his head and he takes it carefully into his hand.

“May I speak once more?”

Minseok’s look turns attentive.

“Yes.”

After a deep inhale, Jongdae tries to look as confident as possible and stretches his hand out – motioning to the young Lord to take the pink flower in his grasp. But Minseok doesn’t move.

“Please my Lord, trust me. Take the flower.”

With a cautious expression, Minseok closes the distance to him and takes the delicate flower. Immediately, he steps back and looks closer at the blossom.

Jongdae summons all the bravery left in him and speaks again, not caring about sounding corny. He just wants to see his Lord smile, despite the obvious weight he’s carrying.

“Please, grant me one smile – grant _yourself_ a smile and I promise, you’ll meet happiness today. Don't you deserve it, with all the pressure you’re enduring?”

Minseok stares at him now, stunned with his golden eyes wide. It’s a cute sight, but Jongdae is aware that his words violated several rules and probably offended the young Lord in some way. Even when his heart hopes it didn’t.

With his frail confidence running out, he fakes a cough and breaks their eye-contact.

“I apologize again. Please excuse my forwardness.” He gulps. “I’ll take my leave now, my Lord. I wish you a good day.”

Not daring to look at Minseok, he turns around and hurries to the greenhouse. His heart is thumping in his ears, embarrassment and last remnants of adrenaline pumping through his veins.

Bells of Ireland, bɛlz ɒv ˈaɪələnd : noun

Also known as shellflower, is a summer flowering plant of the genus Moluccella, with small white flowers surrounded by an enlarged green calyx. It is used to portray „Luck“.

Coronilla, /coronilla / : noun

The genus contains about 20 species of flowering plants, with various coloured flowers such as yellow or white. Main meaning is “Success to you”.

It’s Tuesday and Minseok is sure, today will be disastrous.

A heavy sigh leaves his lips as he slumps down on his chair, head in shaking hands and shoulders drooping. The tabletop doesn’t look very interesting, so Minseok shifts his view to look outside. It’s a rainy day with fog hanging in the air, which doesn’t help to keep his thoughts from turning as grey as his surroundings.

He’s got a literature exam later and if there’s one thing he can’t do – it’s analysing poems and interpreting meanings into words. It’s not like Minseok hasn’t tried, he spent many hours practicing – but there is just something about reading between the lines of flowery language and unspoken metaphors he doesn’t get. Especially under keen supervision with the ticking of a clock as the only sound echoing inside his head.

Minseok is glad his teacher doesn’t want him to write a poem of his own – he’d definitely fail.

In light of his improper reaction to the arranged marriage news, Minseok doesn’t want to imagine what kind of reprimand he’ll have to face if he fails this exam.

Or what will happen if his mother finds out about his secret admirer, a _mage _nonetheless.

He thinks back to Saturday, when the young man appeared like a ray of sunshine and revealed himself. Minseok still has the pink flower lying on his nightstand. He didn’t see the mage on Sunday, but he returned yesterday. His eyebrows and curled lips were pulled down while he placed a small paper instead of a flower on the windowsill. Jongdae wanted to leave without waiting for an answer, but Minseok stopped him.

Instead of insulting his position, the mage touched his heart by showing genuine concern – not many express such emotions for him and thus, Minseok didn’t want him to leave with the wrong impression.

The relieved look of the young man was unbelievably cute that Minseok can’t help but to smile at the memory now as well. It turns embarrassed though, because the mage’s look changed into a surprised and hurt one when Minseok had asked for his name.

_“Jongdae”_, was his answer with a tremble in his voice. _“I’m the second son of your head gardener.”_

Minseok feels bad for not recognizing him in the beginning.

But now, the silhouette with angular shoulders and tiny waist making its way through the fog is distinct to Minseok.

He can see how Jongdae looks around and hurries across the lawn. With a small smile, he gets up to step in front of the window to meet the mage.

“Hello, Jongdae.”

Brown eyes look into his and lips form a curled smile.

“Good morning, my Lord.”

Jongdae breaks their eye-contact and looks down to his hands with a growing blush on his high cheekbones. Minseok feels warm at the endearing sight and he suspects that the mage is fidgeting with some kind of flower in his hands – which one did he bring today?

It’s obvious that the young man is nervous. His mouth opens and closes and straight eyebrows furrow at the lack of words that leave his lips. Minseok thinks it’s cute and he doesn’t want to make him feel insecure by pointing out the younger’s problem, so he stays silent to give Jongdae time to formulate his thoughts.

But Jongdae doesn’t say anything, he reaches across the windowsill instead – holding a rather sturdy wreath of flowers between his fingers. Not without noticing the shakiness and the dirt under his fingernails, Minseok takes it and is careful not to crush the yellow blossoms between the green plants.

“Thank you-“

“These are young Bells of Ireland and Coronillas. I hope you like it.” Jongdae looks at him and realizes what he did, his eyes widen. “I interrupted you, my apology, my Lord! But …”

“No harm is done, Jongdae.” Minseok sends him a small smile. “I appreciate your token.”

“Oh, great …” Jongdae gulps. “There is more to it. Eh, these flowers express my wish for you to have good luck and that you shall succeed today.”

Minseok eyebrows rise in surprise, not used to someone actually wishing him good luck - but he lets Jongdae continue.

“I heard that you have a troubling exam today, so I thought you’d be happy about a small good-luck charm. I hope it is your size,” he motions to the wreath. “It’s intended to be wearable.”

For a second, he wonders how Jongdae knows about his exam, but another wave of the mage’s hand lets him look at the wreath. He turns it around to see the delicate blossoms, noticing that there aren’t only yellow ones. The green he thought was decorative grass before are big round petals – he wonders if Jongdae’s comment about them being young refers to their small size or still green colour.

Carefully, he puts it around his left wrist and sends Jongdae a small smile. It’s still unfamiliar to receive such _attention_ from the mage himself, in person. Minseok has to clear his throat before he speaks.

“Thank you once more, Jongdae.”

Said mage blinks at him for a moment.

“N-no problem, my Lord. It suits you.”

Minseok’s smile broadens at the compliment and he catches how Jongdae freezes, staring at him with wide eyes and his cheeks get a crimson colour. It’s cute, but it doesn’t last – the red vanishes the next second, when a call of the mage’s name can be heard.

Jongdae turns around, eyes still wide, to look behind himself and Minseok follows his line of view to the direction of the glasshouse. He can’t spot anything through the fog, but he can hear the next shout.

“Jongdae! Where the hell are you? You know-“

“I apologize, my Lord.” Minseok looks to said mage, who takes a step back and sends him a sad smile. “I have to go, but my wish doesn’t change. You’ll succeed!”

Minseok mirrors the glum expression and waves as a goodbye, while he watches how Jongdae’s figure gets swallowed by the fog. His gaze stays focused on the grey veil of air before it wanders to the wreath around his wrist and its bright green and yellow colours create a spark of optimism.

Maybe this day isn’t as disastrous as he thought.

Rose, rəʊz : noun

Any of the usually prickly-stemmed shrubs of the genus Rosa, varying in size, shape and colouring. The meaning depends on these terms, main motif may be “Love” whereas the bud symbolizes “Youth” and its leaf “You may hope”.

There is something otherworldly soothing about the rosarium.

He’s seated in the white pavilion, with his papers neatly arranged on top of the cast iron table and books either bookmarked or opened with their edges carefully weighed down with decorative stones. There’s a radio device at one corner of the table, a relatively big box with rounded edges emitting soft tunes of the one radio station close enough to be received - it only plays classical music, but Minseok grew to love the tones of piano and strings.

Each time he comes to the rosarium to study, there’s this sense of calmness and safety he can’t get enough of.

It’s a different kind of safety than the one his own room provides him with, the warm feeling of being in a safe haven – a secluded spot in the world only meant for him.

Since Minseok has lectures in the rosarium as well, the air is still filled with need to do well. But he’s on his own, no teacher in sight to reprimand him for slacking off – enabling Minseok to structure his study time like he wants to.

Allowing himself free moments to simply _be_.

To look around and appreciate the beauty of the rosarium.

To smell the sweet fragrance of roses lingering in the air and to watch their dainty frames swaying in the breeze.

The scenery often allows Minseok’s mind to not dwell on the past and fear the future – he regains a sense of the present.

When he’s in thought and his gaze wanders, his preference for orderliness gets pleased by the careful arranged geometric shapes of the beds of roses. It usually helps to get an order to his thoughts, but his mind seems to stray from his study to something else these past days.

The images of curled lips and concerned brown eyes flash before his eyes.

Minseok didn’t see the mage since Tuesday, but the flower wreath was indeed a lucky charm – the exam wasn’t as difficult as he thought it would be. To keep the positive memory, he hung the flowers above his desk to let them dry.

A warm feeling spreads in his chest at the thought of the wreath and the encouraging words which accompanied it. It’s safe to say that Minseok was surprised by the gesture – many assume he doesn’t have problems with studying and the expectation to ace each exam lies heavy on his shoulders.

That Jongdae expresses his concern and attention so openly in front of his Lord warms him, not only in terms of his study but beyond. It’s unfamiliar that someone allows him to have a weakness. The genuine nature of the mage enables him to feel secure enough to show them and he wants to trust Jongdae. To be honest to him and maybe even build a friendship despite their different standings. Jongdae seems to be interested, at least his flowery gifts give the impression he does.

A smile finds its way to his lips at the thought, Minseok is still flattered. There is one thing that hinders his mind to find rest though.

Jongdae said the flowers in the wreath express his good luck wishes.

As in, they symbolize them.

As in, these flowers are not only an expression of a secret admiration.

Minseok was blind to not realize the use of flower language earlier.

He argues with himself that it isn’t his fault to not recognize it, since his teacher only touched the topic briefly so far. At least, the man answered his questions when Minseok asked him during their lecture yesterday, he even recommended some books on it.

There’s one in the pile on the table as well, Minseok intended to read it after his readings for the next lecture. Yet, it climbed higher on his list of priority – his hands opened it unconsciously and he straightens it with a sigh. But it changes into an amused smile, better not ignore his inner voice and just start reading.

The new knowledge leads to him being even more flattered. Even though he can’t remember all the flowers he got over the years, he recalls enough to realize how much thought Jongdae puts into this. Admiration as well as a bit jealousy rise in Minseok at how creative and romantic the mage expresses himself and he feels sad that he didn’t appreciate the effort earlier.

It’s intimidating as well.

Some of the flowers imply a deeper affection than friendship or simple admiration and Minseok knows that he’s not able to reciprocate these feelings. Or that _he’s afraid to_, whispers his inner voice.

No, a friendship between a Lord and a mage is risky enough.

He has to make do with this, appreciating the different nature than his few other friendships, solely with nobles. If there’ll be any friendship between Jongdae and himself in the future at all.

And maybe, a small hopeful thought fights its way against his worries, maybe he’ll even have a good time. Maybe fate allows him to have at least a small period of happiness in his life, before he has to endure shallow courtships and the following dreadful years of an arranged marriage.

A heavy sigh leaves his lips and he rubs his eyes to regain his focus, to get aware of the decision he just made.

He wants to be friends with Jongdae.

Another sigh and Minseok has to swallow, but he feels his determination increasing.

Just … how can he show all this to Jongdae?

Minseok opens his eyes again and looks at the book in front of him. An idea starts to form itself – why not answer the mage the same way he communicated to him throughout the years?

Nimble fingers start to turn the pages, in search of a flower he can use to express what he wants, to give Jongdae hope and tells him that his admiration gets heard. After some minutes Minseok finds something, it’s not the exact words he’d want to say but it’s the best he can find.

The leaf of a rose.

Even though a rose symbolizes different variations of love, that’s something even Minseok knows, it’s always only the blossom or petals. He hopes he uses the leaf correctly, that it doesn’t imply too much.

Henbane, ˈhenbeɪn : noun

Also known as Stinking Nightshade, is a poisonous plant of the genus Hyoscyamus, having sticky, hairy leaves and greenish-yellow flowers. It is used by males to attract love from females.

Aster, ˈæstə : noun

The genus encompasses around 180 species, having flowers varying from white or pink to blue. It is used as a symbol of “Love” and to portray “Daintiness”.

When Jongdae hurries across the lawn to place a flower on the windowsill, he has to be especially careful this time. It’s Saturday, which means the noble family takes their breakfast on the great porch – which is directly on Jongdae’s path to the young Lord’s window. Not that they’ll be there this early in the morning, but that doesn’t mean servants won’t catch sight of Jongdae while they prepare the breakfast table.

Not only would it be unfortunate to be seen on any other day, but Jongdae has to work in the greenhouse today which means he doesn’t have any sound reason to be in the garden at all if anyone questions his presence. And they would, the cloth-wrapped flower in his hand looks unusual enough to raise suspicion.

It’s a Henbane, but since it’s a long-day plant and Jongdae didn’t have enough time to transfer enough energy the flower didn’t grow much. The blossom isn’t even blooming, but Jongdae couldn’t wait to give it to Minseok. Mainly, because Jongdeok teased him long enough to step up his game and use more forward flowers, recommending Henbane. Jongdae wouldn’t have thought of it, since it’s a poisonous plant with a rather unpleasant smell. He wrapped it in some cloth to spare Minseok of it and added a small note about its poison for caution as well. A sigh leaves his lips at the additional work, he’s always nervous about adding notes since he gets teased about his handwriting being sloppy.

But the flower finally finds its way to the windowsill, Jongdeok hopefully stops teasing him about his crush now. It will lessen the danger of him finding out the person of his infatuation being not some servant working in the Mansion, but a male and on top of it the young Lord.

Jongdae is so deep in his thoughts that he almost didn’t notice the folded handkerchief on the windowsill. He frowns a bit, it’s from Minseok – it has an embroidery of his initials. Did he lose it? The window is closed though, and the curtains are shut.

A closer look reveals that the handkerchief holds a leaf in its middle, but not simply any leaf.

It’s a rose leaf.

Jongdae’s eyes widen and his heart skips a beat. Is it true?

Did Minseok finally answer? Not only answer but _reciprocate_!

After staring at the small leaf for a few unbelievable minutes, hope wins against doubt and Jongdae grins. His heart explodes in euphoria, a heatwave runs through his veins to his cheeks – lighting them in a deep crimson. He takes the handkerchief together with the leaf and tugs it carefully into his pants pockets.

His feet start to walk on their own, moving his gleeful body with a constant smile and shining eyes through the garden. Jongdae only gets back to his senses when he almost collides with the door to the greenhouse.

With his cheeks growing hotter due to embarrassment, he enters and gets to work. His mind stays in front of Minseok’s window though – not a second goes by without Jongdae thinking about the young Lord.

While preparing flowerboxes with new soil to plant Asters, images of Minseok’s features appear in his mind. How his feline eyes pierce right through Jongdae and how they make him feel like the young Lord really listens to his insignificant words. That sometimes they get a special glow – looking like liquid gold.

Or how the rosy lips stretched into a small smile when he slid the flower wreath around his slender wrist. Oh, how cute his little hands with his dainty fingers are.

Absentmindedly, Jongdae starts to make small indents into the soil with his own fingers to bury the seeds with the other hand.

But he can’t help himself, Minseok truly is beautiful. Each time Jongdae had the possibility to see his hands up close he marvels at how delicate they look. How soft they would feel intertwined with his own. Maybe that could happen now? Who knows how far they get, now that Minseok reciprocates his feelings?

Jongdae stills at a sudden realization, one hand remaining buried in the soil and the other fidgeting with seeds in his palm – he has yet to see how plush cheeks redden, to bring a glow onto Minseok’s face. Or how his face looks like when he laughs aloud. He imagines it’s a marvellous sight, one he hopefully gets to see in the future.

A smile never leaves his lips, while he finishes planting the Aster seeds and places them into a cold storage room, where they imitate winter to help grow flowers all year around. The chilly air is soothing on his heated cheeks, but it doesn’t stop the overflowing thoughts about Minseok which keep his mind occupied the whole day. 

Zephyrantes, ˌzɛfɪˈrænθiːz : noun

Also known as Zephyr flowers, the genus of temperate and tropical plants in the amaryllis family, having slender stalks and various coloured flowers. Another symbol of “Love”, it is also used to convey “Sincerity”.

Lavandula, /lavandula/ : noun

Commonly called Lavender, the genus contains 47 species of flowering plants known for a strong scent and an iconic blue-purple colour. A symbol of “Love” also used to portray “Loyalty” and “Devotion”.

Myosotis, ˌmaɪ.əˈsoʊtɪs : noun

Commonly called Forget-me-not, the genus of flowering plants with flat, coloured flowers ranging from blue and white to pink or yellow. Main motif being “True Love”, it is also used to portray “Friendship” or “Faithfulness”.

The warm air of the greenhouse meets Jongdae as he enters, returning from placing another wreath on Minseok’s windowsill, this time with Bells of Ireland and Juniper. He heard from Baekhyun last Sunday that the young Lord has some kind of dressage test today. Baekhyun had said more, but since he works in the stables he tends to use horse related terms Jongdae doesn’t know – he understands enough to wish Minseok good luck.

Jongdae chuckles, he realizes amused that his mind is once again filled with thoughts of the young Lord and that he better starts working or someone is going to tell his parents he’s slacking off. Something he definitely doesn’t want to happen.

So, with a sigh, he starts his task for the day and lets his fingers graze upon the stems of several Zephyranthes to check on their growth and transfer more energy if needed. They have to be in bloom starting from next week on and some of them didn’t grow enough yet. Jongdae pays them extra attention and while he sends some energy through his touch, he’s reminded of a story Kyungsoo told him.

His friend witnessed how a fellow kitchen servant of him almost collided with Minseok, the tea set on her tray falling to the floor and shattering with an unsettling sound. She stammered apologies and started to pick up the pieces, but the young Lord told her to stop. Kyungsoo said that his face looked genuinely concerned while he asked her if she got injured.

Jongdae can imagine how his features must have looked like – slightly curved eyebrows furrowed and eyes filled with golden care. Oh, how handsome he must have been with his shiny brown hair, his delicate earrings and the satin shirt hugging his biceps. Jongdae gets lost in the picture for a moment and only snaps back to reality when a wave of exhaustion creeps through his arm. Embarrassed, he breaks the contact to the now rather tall flower.

He remembers how Kyungsoo continued, that Minseok had called for someone to bring a broom and even asked for the housekeeper to explain that it was his fault, that he made sure the female servant didn’t get punished. Minseok truly is a kind person and Jongdae’s heart flutters with admiration for the young Lord.

After a last look at the Zephyranthes, Jongdae makes his way to their break room to regain some energy after charging so many flowers with his own. It’s a small room with only one couch in a corner, mainly stools are arranged around the table in the middle.

Since it’s rather late in the day by now there are no other gardeners in the room and Jongdae has the privilege of sinking down into the well-used cushions. Resting his head on the headrest, he looks at the ceiling. There are various twines fixed to it, sagging with the weight of bundles of Lavender which have yet to dry completely.

Their scent calms Jongdae’s already exhausted body and his cheeks lose their crimson colour after such a long time glowing to the thoughts of the young Lord. With a sigh, he realizes that some of the other gardeners probably have seen him staring off into the distance and Jongdae can already hear the teasing he’ll get from his brother. Or from Baekhyun and Kyungsoo, when he sees them tomorrow and tells them the good news.

They’ll probably tease him even more, especially Baekhyun likes to exaggerate the times Jongdae spied on Minseok and now that his feelings got heard … He chuckles at the thought of Baekhyun forcing him to practice how to approach the young Lord, playing it out like a drama scene. Jongdae can already hear Kyungsoo’s snarky comment “_If Jongdae-ah grows some and doesn’t keep staring like a creep_.”

And with embarrassment he must admit, it’s true.

Jongdae watched the young Lord a lot while he studies in the rosarium, surrounded by beauty which can’t match him. How striking Minseok’s mind must be – judging by the witty comments to his teacher that Jongdae overheard it surely is an outstanding place.

With all the effort he puts into studying, Jongdae can’t help himself to admire the young Lord’s devotion to gain more knowledge – to better fulfil his duties. But he knows from his own school experience, studying isn’t easy.

Even if it comes natural to Minseok, Jongdae doesn’t really know after all, there must be things the young Lord struggles with. With all the expectations he has to bear, moments of weakness are frowned upon and Jongdae’s heart aches at the thought of Minseok’s self-confidence crumbling under the constant pressure.

And that’s something Jongdae despises. Minseok has so much power that he doesn’t know about - he emits a natural charisma which puts a spell on everybody the second he enters the room. His kindness earns him the approval of the servants, which will help him in the future as a Lord for sure.

If there is one thing Jongdae wants, it’s to see how Minseok’s devotion pays off – how his effort leads to him being a good Lord. And maybe, hopefully, Jongdae is lucky enough to witness it from a closer distance.

The small smile that found its way to his curled lips at this thought disappears the second he realizes the truth though.

Based on his own knowledge and hearsay, at this point of time - Minseok doesn’t realize the power he holds. Instead, the young Lord remains suffocated under the pressure put onto his shoulders by his parents and more importantly, by himself.

Jongdae ponders over this, is there anything he could do to help Minseok?

“There you are!”

With a start, Jongdae sits up - his troubling thoughts now interrupted, he looks at the door with a frown. Junhong, another gardener, stands tall with a watering can in one hand and he meets his frown with an annoyed expression.

“Yah, don’t look at me like this. You still have to water the pots outside.”

Jongdae stands up with a groan and his knees are still protesting, but he accepts the watering can without any further complaints. Hopefully, it’s the last task for today.

When he steps outside, he realizes how much time has passed. The sky is a mixture of blue and yellow, the sun starting to make its way down to the horizon. There is a pleasant scent in the air, causing Jongdae’s mood to lighten and he closes his eyes, inhaling deeply for a few minutes.

Calmness washes over his senses and while he waters the blue Forget-me-nots, Jongdae realizes a something.

Just like he’s able to help flowers with his energy to grow and bloom – Jongdae is sure he can be a support to Minseok. To aid him into becoming a good Lord, a man he holds dear and wants to follow.

Camellia, kəˈmiːlɪə : noun

The genus encompasses around 300 species with various hybrids, having evergreen leaves and white, pink, red or varying flowers. Its main motif being “Gratitude”, the meaning ranges depending on the colour, with red for “Unpretending Excellence” or pink “Longing for You”.

The empty page seems to taunt Minseok.

His right hand fidgets with his pen, while he stares at his journal and tries to ignore the worry bubbling in his gut since this morning.

Minseok finished his entry for the day, except the page designated for the daily flower – it stays blank.

It’s not the first time that he didn’t receive a flower since Jongdae started leaving them for him, but Minseok still worries. There weren’t any hiccups this week, every morning was a flower placed on his windowsill and the times he saw Jongdae, the mage didn’t appear sick.

Quite the opposite … Minseok has to bite his lips, knowing which direction his thoughts are taking.

His upbringing taught him not to openly ogle at someone. But the last Tuesday, when he was supposed to catch up with his readings - Minseok caught himself staring at a working Jongdae and his arms too often.

His eyes followed the curved lines of muscles moving while swift hands worked to mix fertilizer with soil. When Jongdae turned to grab more bright-blue grains from a bucket, his back was facing Minseok and it shifted his focus to angular shoulders.

The black muscle-shirt didn’t help at all - it accentuated the sharp edges of the mage’s body even more and when he turned back around, Minseok was able to see his sweat-drenched hair sticking to his forehead.

It wasn’t possible to follow the drops of sweat flowing down Jongdae’s neck from the distance, but Minseok caught sight of collarbones glistening under the artificial lighting. How the humid air let the black fabric cling to the chest below and …

Minseok remembers how he swallowed and loosened his shirt collar, feeling his own sweat collect at his temples.

It was very hot in the glasshouse.

The next day he saw the mage during one of his finance lectures at the rosarium.

Minseok gave his best to listen to his teacher, but he couldn’t help himself to let his gaze wander to watch Jongdae.

Since it was past noon, the sun stood high in the sky and shone down on the roses – warming them to open to their fullest and emit their enticing scent.

In some way, this can also be said about Jongdae.

Minseok observed how he walked around, crouching here to loosen soil and clipping wilted parts there – it was soothing to watch him work. The mage was actually _doing_ something in contrast to Minseok, who has to sit almost all day while either listening to a teacher or reading for another lecture.

And since he’s seated in the pavilion, Minseok had a great view of the main parts of the rosarium – resulting into having Jongdae in his sight almost constantly.

The mage seemed to enjoy the warm weather, there was a smile on his curled lips while he was busy as a bee.

His brown hair appeared ruffled and Jongdae didn’t seem to mind, even when he had to brush wayward strands out of his face – leaving behind brown residue of earth.

Minseok had gulped, thinking about how it would be if he’d brush the hair away, to look into brown eyes and chuckle at the surprised expression of Jongdae. He guessed the mage would join his laugh and continue working after thanking him. With a sigh, Minseok realized how diligent Jongdae is with his work.

But it had positive sides as well – his work clothes provided definitely a nice view.

Jongdae wore a brown shirt with a green apron today, which accentuated his tiny waist and as a small part of Minseok’s brain remarked, it also directed the focus to his full booty whenever he kneels down.

He blushed at that, trying to avert his eyes to stay polite and did only look up again when a laugh could be heard.

Minseok’s eyes widened, his eyes drawn to the beauty that is Jongdae laughing.

With his mouth wide open, upper lip curling and a dimple showing he was a sight to behold. Jongdae stood next to another gardener who was tall in stature and seemed to dwarf Jongdae. The mage had to look up, his eyes were scrunched together while the sound of laughter wafts through the air.

It was a loud, thunderous sound – exuding pure energy and happiness.

Minseok smiled himself and his gaze stayed on the mage’s silhouette for some moments longer, yearning to avoid refocusing on his teacher and financial numbers.

There’s an effortless beauty in Jongdae and Minseok can’t get enough of it, wants to get more chances to observe the mage closer. Maybe even touching him …

But Minseok snaps out of his thoughts, a sound at his window causing him to jump in surprise. A look outside reveals the darkness tinting the lawn almost black and at first, Minseok doesn’t see the source of the disruption.

Then, a pink flower appears on the edge of the windowsill and fingers as well as a brown mop of hair follow. The light of his room highlights sharp cheekbones and lets brown eyes glimmer.

“Jongdae.”

Minseok smiles and gets up to get closer to the mage. But his smile vanishes when he sees the exhausted bags under Jongdae’s eyes and how curled lips are pulled down.

“Good evening, my Lord.” Jongdae looks at him, expression shy and voice quiet. “I’m sorry to disturb your free time.”

Minseok frowns at that. “Don’t apologize. Is everything alright?”

Jongdae sighs and averts his eyes.

“Yes, I just … I’m sorry, this was a foolish idea.” The mage turns to leave. “I won’t waste your time any longer.”

“Please wait!”

Jongdae’s eyes widen at his loud words and Minseok is surprised at himself. He clears his throat and continues in a quieter voice.

“Wait, Jongdae, you don’t have to leave. Why did you come here?” He steps forward and now he’s close enough to be able to touch Jongdae’s hands. It’s an improper thought, but his fingers twitch, nonetheless.

“I’m willing to listen,” Minseok keeps his voice calm. “if you’re willing to talk.”

Jongdae looks at him with his eyes holding a storm of emotions.

“Min- ... thank you, my Lord.” He clears his throat. “To be honest, today was a bad day. I … I was supposed to save plants, to help them grow again. But not every flower survived and … it hurts to feel how my energy fails to …” A sigh. “Are you sure you want to listen to my woes?”

Minseok nods.

“I wouldn’t have said so, if I don’t mean it.” He smiles at Jongdae. “Also, it’s interesting to hear about magic from the perspective of a user, not from a book.”

Jongdae’s eyes widen with a hurt look.

“You say, you’re only listening because of my magic?”

“No, of course not!” Minseok shakes his head. “I apologize. Maybe you understand better if I rephrase … please know, my inner scholar interests your magic, that is true. But my heart prefers to listen to you.”

His words do not help - Jongdae’s face still appears wary, he looks down and fidgets with his hands. Minseok follows his gaze and with a gasp, he realizes that the younger’s hands are shaking – small jittery motions of his fingers twitching.

What did Jongdae do to be so exhausted?

Worry takes over and without thinking, Minseok surges forward to take Jongdae’s hand in his. The skin is rather cold and rough under his touch. Minseok can feel the little jumps of the twitching fingers in his grasp and it doesn’t help to lessen his concern.

“Jongdae, why are you shaking?”

A worried look to the mage’s face reveals brown eyes widened in surprise and crimson cheeks.

“I-eh, my Lord.” Jongdae looks down at their hands and now the tips of his ears grow red as well. “Eh …” An audible gulp. “I-I used too much energy … I hoped I could still save them, but …”

Minseok sighs, his sympathy for the mage growing even more and he squeezes their hands. He hopes Jongdae’s cold hands are the only signs of his exhaustion and that he’s not endangered to faint. All this to safe flowers …

“You have such a big heart, Jongdae. I-“ Now he’s the one averting his eyes. “I admire how you express yourself so openly. You work so hard … I am sorry that you couldn’t save them, I can only imagine how it must feel. But please take care of yourself, too.”

There’s no reaction from Jongdae, so Minseok looks up. He is met with still reddened cheeks and wide, brown eyes staring at him. The mage appears stunned, curled lips opening and closing, not knowing what to say.

What a cute sight.

Minseok catches himself before his gaze turns into an impolite stare. He clears his throat.

“I hope you feel better soon.”

Jongdae nods slowly.

“Th-thank you, my Lord.” He swallows. “Can I be honest with you?”

“Weren’t you before?” Minseok smiles amused.

“Uh …” The mage looks embarrassed, he stares at their still intertwined hands. “Yes, I was. But … Thank you for seeing me this late. For allowing me to talk freely.”

“And I have to thank you for your trust, Jongdae.”

They smile at each other, a shine in their eyes hiding words they don’t dare to speak aloud.

Jongdae breaks the eye-contact first, a shy smile on his lips. His hands aren’t as jittery as before.

“I apologize again, for disrupting your evening. It is late, I should be going.”

Minseok frowns, it feels like they just started talking and he doesn’t want to end their conversation yet. But he knows the risk of Jongdae staying too long.

With a sigh, he answers: “I wish you a good night. I hope you’ll feel better after sleeping.” Minseok lets go of Jongdae’s hand reluctantly, missing the skin contact immediately. “May you’ll have no problems finding your way in the darkness.”

Jongdae stares at his hands for a second, then at Minseok and his curled lips stretch into a wide smile.

“May you have a good night as well, my Lord.”

Minseok smiles back and watches how Jongdae walks away. When the mage is at the other end of the lawn, he turns around and despite the darkness, Minseok can make out his bright grin.

After staring at the spot for a few moments longer, he gets to close the window but stops when he notices the flower on the windowsill.

It’s a single pink blossom - lying at the side, pushed away by Jongdae’s arms earlier.

Minseok takes it in his hand carefully, admiring the petals circling around the middle with a soft pink colour. Curious, he brings the flower to his nose and inhales a sweet scent which brings a smile to his lips.

The flower is beautiful, like Jongdae.

His eyes widen at the corny thought and Minseok realizes how he never hesitated to think about the mage’s beauty. Biting his lips, he struggles to accept his admiration being more than a friendly appreciation. So much for enjoying a different kind of friendship with someone not noble.

A different kind of friendship for sure, if he allows himself to keep thinking such romantic thoughts about Jongdae, this certainly will turn into something _different_.

His heart skips a beat at the promising tone of that, of the possibility of happiness and romance.

Minseok sighs and turns around to place the flower onto his nightstand.

If his mother gets to know about his relationship with Jongdae, no matter of which kind, she will be furious. The mage wouldn’t be safe from her - the worst would be being expelled and humiliated. Even if she miraculously allows them to stay together, she wouldn’t let go of the arranged marriage plans and that would force Jongdae to be labelled as Minseok’s affair, his side thing next to his husband.

Minseok can’t do that to him.

He grits his teeth and turns around to go back to the window. But Minseok stops closing it once more – there is a crumbled paper at the far end of the sill, probably pushed aside by Jongdae as well.

With shaking hands, he takes it and smooths it on the windowsill. When Minseok gets a view of the words written on the note, his eyes widen and he gasps. This is clearly Jongdae’s handwriting.

After reading the words again, he blushes deeply.

The note expresses thoughts Minseok doesn’t dare to think.

_I longed to see you_.

Viola tricolour, vɪˈəʊlə ˈtrɪkələ : noun

Also known as Heart’s ease or wild pansy, is a wild form of the cultivated pansy and of the genus Viola, having small flowers ranging from purple-blue to yellow petals. It is either used to express “You occupy my thoughts” or “Think of me”.

The earth under his shoes crunches with each step, while his hands are buried deep in his pants pockets.

Jongdae lets out a deep sigh.

His brother chastised him earlier for forgetting to water the flowerboxes at their home and Jongdae doesn’t hold it against him, he knows he shouldn’t have forgotten it.

But since yesterday, his mind is all jumbled and he can’t concentrate on anything longer than a few minutes. His heart starts to beat faster when he thinks of the cause of his misery.

The image of blonde hair flashed before his eyes.

Well, not exactly a misery, but definitely the reason why Jongdae can’t keep his head out of the clouds. Even while he finally watered the plants, his gaze wandered off and he started to daydream.

Jongdae’s daydreaming now as well, the crunching of his steps becoming background noise.

Blonde strands of hair. A styled fringe. Lips stretched into a gummy smile.

Jongdae sighs again and dares to formulate his thoughts, to name his misery. He knows he’s overly dramatic, but he can’t help himself.

Minseok bleached his hair.

He doesn’t have a rich brown anymore, instead a light shade mirroring his golden eyes. It made him even more ethereal and royal looking. Jongdae doesn’t know how he does it - the blonde doesn’t let him appear pale but complements his rosy lips and cheeks. Together with the styled fringe, revealing more of his forehead … Jongdae saw how Minseok ruffled his own hair, loosening the fringe again and letting some hair strands fall into his eyes.

Mesmerizing.

Jongdae can’t get the picture out of his mind, how Minseok looked when he strolled through the garden with another noble at his side yesterday. The young Lord looked happy, his mouth wide open to let out a burst of laughter.

Even though Jongdae wasn’t the reason of him laughing, it made him smile as well. He is glad that Minseok has people he feels comfortable enough with to laugh openly. He didn’t recognize the other person, but he looked to be the same age as Minseok with pretty features – maybe a relative? A friend? Or a crush of him?

Jongdae shakes his head at the thought, trying to keep his jealousy at bay.

He must focus on the present.

Trying to keep a clear head, Jongdae walks until he arrives at a fork. He takes the left path and continues his way to meet his friends. Like every Sunday, they meet each other at their usual place - a clearing in the forest behind the servant’s area. They are probably wondering where he is and why he takes so long. His jealousy is forgotten when he thinks of telling Baekhyun and Kyungsoo the news.

Jongdae can imagine the teasing he’ll get from Baekhyun, but luckily he knows how to shut up his friend now – the mention of a certain son of a saddle master will do. Baekhyun would blush and stammer, denying any connection with the tall guy.

He can see Kyungsoo standing by and laughing, enjoying the embarrassed expressions of his friends. But if they’d go too far and unintentionally say something mean, he’s the kind of friend to step in and mediate in an objective manner.

A rustling interrupts his thoughts and a squirrel runs across the path, vanishing into a bush to his left. Jongdae follows it with his eyes and notices a small clearing behind the bush.

Since he’s already late, Jongdae doesn’t hesitate to step closer and careful, he pushes the bush branches out of the way to enter the clearing.

The trees create a big enough opening to allow the sun to shine onto the grass and to create a marvellous sight. It’s roughly the size of the pavilion in the rosarium, but more of an oval shape than circular. The grass is lush, with flowers and some molehills scattered around. The sun catches on the lighter coloured blossoms, but Jongdae’s gaze is caught by something darker at the edge, near other bushes.

There are purple flowers, smaller than the other ones and definitely more fragile looking. Jongdae gets closer while being careful not to crush any other flower, but his eyes always go back to the delicate plants.

Awed, he squats down to inspect them better and Jongdae is able to identify the flowers as a wild Pansy. He stretches his hand out to trace the outline of one, keeping his touch soft on the tender petals. He notices the cute yellow dot of colour at the bottom petal, mixing in with the purple above. A small tentative exchange of energy tells him that the flower is healthy, albeit a bit smaller than average.

Seeing such beauty and feeling the velvety texture of the petals remind him of Minseok.

With a blush, Jongdae remembers the touch they shared two days ago. How Minseok had taken his hand and squeezed, his golden eyes filled with concern. The feeling of his tender skin, almost like velvet against his own rough fingertips. 

His heart had skipped a beat and he couldn’t keep himself from staring at the young Lord, holding his hand. Jongdae is sure Minseok was able to see how the warmth spread across his cheeks at the touch.

It’s on his cheeks now as well, because Jongdae realizes his thoughts are once again about the young Lord.

An idea forms in his mind.

The flower reminds him of Minseok, why not gift it to him tomorrow? But first, he has to make sure its meaning would be suitable …

Jongdae closes his eyes for a second, searching in his mind for the correct answer. He frowns, since he doesn’t really know the exact species the meaning can either be _think of me_ or _you occupy my thoughts _… But either sound good to give to Minseok.

Jongdae nods, as if affirming the decision to himself. He wants the young Lord to think of him and on the other side – Minseok definitely has a lot of showtime in his mind.

He grins at the thought, but it vanishes when Jongdae realizes he has to find a way to get the flower to the greenhouse, without it wilting too much …

A thoughtful sound leaves his lips and Jongdae decides he can face the problem later, when he’s on his way back. For now, it has to do to mark the entry to the clearing, so that he can find it after his meeting with Baekhyun and Kyungsoo.

After searching for some dry branches and creating a small arrow with them next to the path, Jongdae nods to himself once again. He turns around to make his way to another clearing, where his friends are already waiting for him.

He can already hear their bickering from afar, Baekhyun’s high pitched voice echoes through the air and Jongdae knows, the breaks in between are filled with quiet grumbled responses of Kyungsoo.

When he steps onto their meadow, Baekhyun is already running into his direction – arms outstretched.

“Dae, help me!” His rectangular smile shines with mischief. “Kyungie said he’ll never bring any pastries anymore, only because I made fun of the weird flavour last time. You have to help me, make him bring them again!” Baekhyun’s whine almost sounds like a giggle. “Or I will die from hunger, I can’t live without Kyungie’s pastries!”

Jongdae can hear Kyungsoo chuckling, but he first has to detach himself from the tight hug before he can answer.

“You have to stop teasing him first, Baek. “ Jongdae’s lips stretch into a wide grin. “But listen, I’ve got something to talk about.”

Baekhyun’s grey eyes grow wide.

“What is it? What is it?”

Jongdae’s grin gets even bigger and his eyes begin to shine. He sees how Baekhyun shares his grin and how Kyungsoo steps closer in attention as well.

“Minseok has a different hair colour!”

Tulip, ˈtjuːlɪp : noun

The genus of spring-blooming flowers in the lily family, known for their varying colours. Main motif being “Perfect Love”, depending on colour it can also be used to convey “Believe me” with red or express “There’s Sunshine in your Smile” with yellow.

Minseok is once again seated in the pavilion and doing his readings for the week. The big radio device is playing soft piano tune, which slowly turns into a more energetic melody.

With shaky movements, he writes a comment on his paper to later ask his teacher about it.

His hand is gripping the pen and the other massaging his thigh, Minseok bites his lips to avoid thinking about _it_. He still isn’t sure if he likes the change or not – since his mother forced him to do it, he’s automatically inclined to hate it. But the colour is quite nice, yet …

His hair itches like crazy.

The massage on his thigh turns almost painful, while he’s trying his best not to rip his hair out. His mother had said it’s the latest trend to bleach one’s hair to appear angelic and royal – even if the whole hair colouring thing is new and possible side effects aren’t known yet. But since the first suitors will arrive soon, she forced him to endure the not only time-consuming but also highly strenuous process of bleaching.

The hairdresser praised the concussion he put into his hair as especially gentle and efficient. Minseok can only affirm one of that, his hair definitely got several shades lighter.

His hand twitches to throw away the pen and just _scratch_. To get rid of the annoying itchiness.

He grabs a bookmark next to his cup of tea instead, looking at it closer with a small smile on his lips. It’s a rectangular paper of a pale violet colour – in its middle, a purple flower.

The flower is the one Minseok found on his windowsill this morning and the purple petals reminded him of his letter paper. With the little creativity he has, Minseok made a bookmark out of it – attaching the flower to the letter paper with tape and some threads.

It doesn’t look that great – he should have dried and pressed the flower before, its petals are looking sad and crumbled by now.

Minseok remembers the meaning of the flower, if he identified it correctly, and it fills him a bit with shame that he didn’t preserve it properly. The bookmark is nice, but since the flower is wilting he’s saddened at the thought of the carried meaning fading as well.

He feels very flattered by Jongdae’s obvious affection and he can’t deny to himself any longer that the mage is on his mind a lot as well. Not to forget the times he catches himself looking at him, Minseok stopped counting and yet he knows it was often enough to be counted as more than friendly interest.

A friendship, that is what he wanted in the beginning.

But the last weeks, with the small conversations and moments they shared … it happened without Minseok noticing. The change of interest, the shift from friendship to more romantic intentions.

How easy it is to feel secure around Jongdae, his caring and encouraging nature never fails to brighten his day. The curl of his lips a beacon of light in the morning of a grey day routine.

A sigh leaves his lips.

Minseok knows his growing affection for the mage won’t do him good. His heart hurts at the thought of letting Jongdae go, to see his smile vanish because of him. But with the upcoming meetings of suitors he won’t be able to spend time with Jongdae in the morning and he can’t allow his thoughts to stray during lectures anymore. Since the time for doing his readings and homework is cut short now as well, he has to do more in his lectures.

And on top of that – the danger of his mother finding out about their relationship weights heavier than ever. She pays extra attention to him these days – making sure he’s looking appropriate and knows how to converse with his suitors. To control himself not to step out of line, be a _good heir_.

Minseok frowns at the thought.

He’s still against the arranged marriage, but his mother is usually right and since they need to raise their social image to keep their business running … Minseok knows better than to rebel openly.

But there’s a thing, a small thought he’s not brave enough to formulate yet. His desperation in hindsight of his _feelings_ for Jongdae leads him to entertain ideas how to avoid the marriage. Or to change the opinion of his mother at least. He doubts he’ll be victorious, but doesn’t Jongdae deserve to be fought for?

The image of lips opened wide, the upper one curling and a dimple showing comes to his mind.

Warmth spreads through Minseok, thinking about his smile, the positivity and light the mage brings into his life. _Yes_, Jongdae deserves it.

The small smile on his lips vanishes when Minseok is reminded of the sparse chances of seeing him the next weeks. How could he express his thankfulness of Jongdae being a different kind of sunshine?

Another idea forms in his mind – why not do the same as Jongdae? He already did it once, expressing his intentions with a flower and answering the mage with the help of floriography.

His hands open the flower language guide on their own and he browses through the pages on search for a flower to compliment and thank Jongdae.

After some minutes he narrowed it down to one and Minseok nods to himself at the perfect meaning. Motivated by it, he closes the book and arranges the other ones to not leave behind an untidy desk. There’s a delightful jolt of energy in his movements when he stands up to find a gardener to commission a bouquet of yellow Tulips.

It’s later in the day when Minseok enters his room to find the bouquet on his desk. The flowers are in a vase which has a nice mint green colour, complimenting the bright Tulips. Minseok is relieved to see it is a simple clay vase – one out of glass would probably raise too much suspicion when Jongdae takes it home. At least Minseok hopes he does.

But first, he must write himself a reminder to place the bouquet onto the windowsill in the morning. While he writes it down, Minseok decides to also attach a note to the flowers. His hands browse through his various papers, searching for a fitting coloured one. When he finds a pale orange writing paper, his right hand stills above it – pen already in his grip, but Minseok isn’t sure what to write.

He can’t write Jongdae’s name, the danger of their relationship being exposed is too high. His words have to be vague … But before he writes something completely wrong, the meaning should be enough to convey his feelings – right?

Minseok places the note beside the vase and gets ready for the night while avoiding thinking about other possible things he could have written. When he falls into his fluffy blankets, he looks up at the ceiling – blinking owlishly.

He’s not tired yet.

But Minseok must fall asleep as soon as possible, since he has to get up earlier than usual. His mother has requested him to go into the city to get new suits tailored and his bleach refreshed. With his eyebrows pulled together in a frown at the thought of the noisy car ride, Minseok shuffles around to at least find a more comfortable position.

Because nothing of this arranged marriage is _comfortable_ in any way.

Hyacinth, ˈhaɪəsɪnθ : noun

The genus contains three species and is known for its strong scent as well as variety of colour. It is used to portray “Loveliness” if white, “Sorrow” if purple and “Jealousy” if yellow.

There is anger flowing through his veins, while his fingers dig into soil and feel around for Hyacinth bulbs. The dirt is crumbly under his touch and some cuts on his skin itch from its dryness, increasing his already burning feelings. Jongdae is gritting his teeth – it’s not often that he’s upset like this and he still doesn’t know how to handle this dark surge of energy.

Just two days ago he was joyous when he told Baekhyun and Kyungsoo of the young Lord’s new hair colour. But the answer he got wasn’t what he expected. Jongdae can still see the pitying curl of Kyungsoo’s lips, when his friend told him about his added work in the kitchen.

In the next two weeks, several nobles are expected to visit and the kitchen staff is supposed to recreate some of their home dishes. But some maids said that they heard Lady Kim talking about them, that she thinks of these nobles as suitors for her son and therefor looks forward to them courting him.

Now Jongdae sees the true purpose of the change of hair and the memory of Minseok with another man cuts sharp into his heart. His happy thoughts about the young Lord having another friend to feel secure around turn dark green – tinted by jealousy.

His jaw starts to hurt from the constant teeth-gritting and Jongdae has to take a deep breath. He finds a bulb, shakes off some dirt clinging to it and puts it next to others of the same colour. The box next to him is already halfway filled, his agitated movements helping to do his task faster.

Jongdae has to remove the Hyacinth bulbs from the flower bed, since their flowering time has passed and the bed needs to be cleaned for another arrangement. The Hyacinths will be reused next year, his father plans a different motif to be planted for each spring and therefor, Jongdae has to be careful how to organize the bulbs in his box. Purple left, then orange, white in the middle and yellow at the right.

The colour reminds him of the bouquet he found at Minseok’s window on his way to the glasshouse this morning. Its bright yellow Tulips caught his eye immediately and startled him – unsure if the flowers were meant for him. Minseok sent him only one message so far and not a whole bouquet at that.

But when he got close and saw the note which was kept in place by the green vase, Jongdae’s optimistic side took over and decided the bouquet was for him.

Jongdae had blushed at the sweet message, the compliment about his smile – even though he thinks the same can be said about Minseok’s laugh as well.

He took the bouquet with him, placing it outside their servant’s entry at the glasshouse. Just to get told he’s not needed there today and that he shall help around the whole garden. Thus, he ended up digging for Hyacinth bulbs and carrying them to the greenhouse, to store in a dry and warm storage room. But he didn’t stop thinking about the yellow Tulips waiting at the glasshouse for him while working.

The bouquet filled him with happiness, yes, but it also shoved the reality into his face – a reality Jongdae tried to deny before. His name isn’t on the note, the bouquet could still be meant for someone else or simply left there by another gardener. It showed how many uncertainties remain between Minseok and Jongdae.

How difficult it is for the young Lord to answer Jongdae’s gifts – not only because their time together is short, but also because he can’t be seen exchanging signs of courtship with Jongdae, a mage. That their connection is forced to stay hidden.

That Jongdae isn’t allowed to actually be close to the young Lord, to show his affection openly.

And the news about suitors? It increases his insecurity and anger.

When the young Lord is supposed to get courted by nobles the upcoming weeks – wouldn’t it be logical for him to put an end to their connection? That he sees how the negative aspects of their relationship outweigh the positive ones?

No, Minseok wouldn’t do this.

He expressed genuine interest in their conversations, asking Jongdae questions about his day and worrying about his well-being. Not to mention the times Jongdae caught him staring at him when he had a lecture in the rosarium.

He’s sure, the young Lord wouldn’t lie to him. He wouldn’t accept the courtship of others while being courted by Jongdae.

No, Minseok would not play with him like that.

Carnation, kɑːˈneɪʃn̩ : noun

Also known as clove pink, is a flowering plant of the genus Dianthus, having long-stalked flowers in a variety of colours. Its main motif is “Fascination”, but depending on the colour it can be used to express “I’ll never forget you” if pink, “Sorry, I can’t be with you/I wish I could be with you” if striped or “Pure Love” if white.

Minseok welcomes the many blankets surrounding him, their weight a comfort he’s sure he does not deserve.

There’s shame and anger in him, mixing together with a deep sadness.

It causes him to feel cold no matter how many blankets he adds or how thick his socks are, his heart squeezes and thumps iciness throughout his body.

With his head resting on a pillow and his fingers clutching the edge of the pillowcase, Minseok shivers.

Why must he be such a coward?

Minseok feels ashamed that his only message to the mage was a written apology and a single striped Carnation. He placed it onto his windowsill this morning, closing the window and burying himself in his bed since then. The sound of a hiccup outside his cave of shame still echoes in his head, creating the picture of the crying mage.

There’s a chant of “_You did it to protect him_” in his head, clashing with the image of a heartbroken Jongdae – who’s in tears and ripping a note, his brown eyes full of betrayal and hurt.

And with a start Minseok realizes that it’s not only shame he’s feeling - but also how much it hurts _himself_ to imagine the pain Jongdae must feel. That the mage so easily found his way into Minseok’s heart, that simply the thought of Jongdae’s face, contorted into a pained grimace with tears running down his cheeks, lets Minseok’s heart squeeze tightly.

It still confuses Minseok a bit – how fast he got used to Jongdae’s presence, how fast he started to feel safe and cared for. How fast he grew to look forward to their meetups. How fast he fell.

Minseok feels a sting when he thinks of the times he shared sweet or deep and deliberating conversations with Jongdae. How the flowers and kindness got Minseok interested, how he started to pay more attention to the mage. To notice how incredibly _caring_ Jongdae is, talking to everyone without prejudices – no matter which standing they hold.

Jongdae deserves better, deserves to be fought for.

But Minseok is a coward, succumbing to threats he already awaited to hear.

He remembers.

His mother had requested a meeting yesterday and since Minseok did meet suitors yesterday as well, he assumed it was to evaluate his conversations with them.

Her first question being about the bouquet he commissioned surprised him. Then,_ she knows_, was the only present thought in his head – creating a loss of control he didn’t expect.

His mother had started off with her being told he’d been receiving flowers and with her lips in a grim line, she’d growled “Of a _mage_.” Her eyes a burning pool of golden liquid, she’d continued, “Don’t deny it, I know of him. If you truly cherish this boy, put an end to this foolish thing, son.”

Determined to not cave in, Minseok had answered “I will not do such a thing.”

Her gaze had seemed to be aflame, an anger behind them Minseok suddenly wasn’t sure he could withstand for long. His mother’s full red lips had stretched into a devious smile.

“I’m afraid he won’t be staying with us any longer then.”

The second the words registered in his mind - his heart had stopped, freezing the blood in his veins. The worst he’d feared would happen, but he did expect this, didn’t he? He’d opened his mouth to fight back, to be strong and explain his idea of another possibility - but the blazing golden heat in his mother’s eyes had stopped him.

Minseok had felt his determination and courage vanish, overpowered by the obedience hammered into his being since he could talk. The golden fire burned through his weak defence, his frail will to revolt crumbling under the terrifying authority in front of him.

Full red lips forming a victorious smile had him averting his eyes.

“A wise decision.” His mother’s voice had a chilling edge to it. “I expect of you to be prepared for a day’s travel in two days. End your ridiculous connection to the mage until then.”

Minseok didn’t nod, but his mother stood up to leave the room regardless – turning her back to him and saying with a disappointed tone,

“I expected better from you.”

Thinking about her words now, they still give him goose bumps and feed the ice crawling through his veins. Minseok grits his teeth, shame and anger at his mother, at _himself_, surging through him.

Why must he be so weak, a coward submitting to her threat?

He had known banishing Jongdae was a possible danger, yet truly hearing his mother’s intention of expelling him had him frozen, realizing the haunting reality. The true depth of the banishment.

Jongdae wouldn’t be able to find another employment with Lady Kim’s words against him. Their reputation driven society would make it impossible for him to earn enough to have a healthy life, to _survive _in a world run by nobles.

Minseok did it to protect Jongdae.

His heart stings, torn between believing his feelings or his trained obedience.

He hates himself for this suffocating submission which controls his decisions, to always please his parents. To follow his mother’s words, meeting shallow suitors honey-mouthing her instead of caring about him. There were suitors, too cold and distant and only interested in the money or fellow submissive ones, following their parent’s wish of an arranged marriage.

And his mother was enjoying it all, seeing her son conversing with suitors – encouraging further meetings with the ones she judges worthy. Minseok knows she ignores his signs of discomfort, deciding without him who to meet and he suspects she’ll take the final decision from him as well, despite their agreement to let Minseok choose.

It fills him with sadness, the knowledge of his impending marriage, already doomed from the beginning. Of years filled with forced conversations and the constant pressure to keep their reputation, to keep the company running. It will become the most important thing to him, working himself into exhaustion as is expected of his standing.

And Jongdae?

Jongdae would keep his job. He’d be able to stay with his family, his friends and find another love – he would get the chance to be _happy_. The distance to Minseok and his mother will do him good.

Minseok did it to protect him.

He crashed the little chance they had, but he gave Jongdae a future.

His heart stings again, the grip on the pillowcase growing stronger.

A future without him at his side.

Kingcup, ˈkɪŋkʌp : noun

Also known as marsh-marigold, is a small plant of the genus Caltha in the buttercup family, having bright-yellow flowers. It is used to express “I wish I were rich”.

It feels strange not to go to Minseok’s window.

Since it’s Friday, Jongdae is assigned to work in the greenhouse. It is the simple act of not hurrying outside to the windowsill and instead, staying inside and starting to work without delay - which is strange to him.

He’s on his knees, hands dipped into the water of the small water tank and his fingertips move through the muddy soil at the bottom. The cool temperature on his skin mirrors Jongdae’s emotions.

After the crying he did throughout the night, there’s no anger and no sadness left. Only an empty cold feeling of hurt and denial.

Jongdae doesn’t want to believe it’s true.

That Minseok’s interest in him wasn’t real, that Minseok did truly _reject_ him.

His heart stings at the mere thought of the word, the movement of his fingers stills and Jongdae has to take a deep breath.

The pain flowing through him lets Jongdae grit his teeth, then, another deep breath. He’s aware the denial won’t last for long, as did the anger. Because deep down, he knows the rejection wasn’t a surprise to him.

Resignation slowly but surely overtakes his inner turmoil.

Jongdae knows, the possibility of a rejection was there. He even expected it, now that the young Lord is courted by other nobles it was only logical to him to end the connection with a mage. But he hoped for Minseok to be genuinely interested in him, to withstand his parents’ pressure and to give their relationship a chance – even though Jongdae knew how difficult it would have been for the young Lord.

Reality showed its true face though and the striped Carnation Jongdae found is the proof of it.

Minseok didn’t fight for them.

He ended their relationship, their connection and rejected Jongdae’s courtship.

A heavy sigh leaves his lips.

The resignation controlling his emotions enables Jongdae to see something positive in this – he had wished for Minseok to fight for them, yes. But Jongdae also put his trust onto him to not accept the courting of a noble behind his back and the rejection is a realistic consequence of this. It isn’t the one he’d hoped for, but at least he isn’t lied to.

Jongdae’s heart stings, nonetheless.

His fingertips brush against a root of a Kingcup and after an energy exchange, Jongdae knows this one is ready to be replanted. He carefully entangles the roots from the surrounding ones and lifts the plant into one of the buckets next to him. They are filled with wet soil, to keep the wetness loving Kingcups healthy during the rest of the day.

Jongdae has to replant the yellow blooming flowers to the pond opposite the glasshouse. It’s a different task than usual – he’s assigned to work either at the glasshouse, rosarium and greenhouse or if there’s help needed in the kitchen garden.

But to be responsible to replant the Kingcup on his own in another part of the grand garden is a completely new task. Jongdae doesn’t have that much experience with flowers which prefer to grow in a marsh, it fills him with an insecurity and together with his distracted mind … he hopes he doesn’t mess this up.

When Jongdae arrives at the pond with two buckets with Kingcups in each hand, his heart squeezing in pain and his grip around the handles almost slipping.

There are tears in his eyes, even though Jongdae thought he wouldn’t be able to cry anymore.

Minseok was there.

While a butler put suitcases into the luggage compartment of the fancy car, the young Lord stood in front of it – next to his mother. Jongdae was able to see her red lips stretched into a smile from afar and Minseok’s golden strands of hair shimmering under the afternoon sun … it had him biting his lips.

Jongdae’s heart is still hurting and he places the buckets next to the pond. He has to press his knuckles into his eyes and takes deep breaths, the sudden return of this pain caught him off guard.

Minseok was there but judging by the car and suitcases he will be gone for a few days.

His heart should be happy about not seeing the young Lord, but it still hurts at the thought of Minseok being with another. Of him preferring the courtship of another – to Jongdae’s.

The knuckles pressing into his eyes can’t hinder the tears from spilling any longer and Jongdae suppresses a wet sob.

Why was he born a mage? Why couldn’t he be rich?

He’d be allowed to declare his love to Minseok openly, to court him officially and there would be no reason to reject him.

Another suppressed sob has him pressing his lips together, their shaking a silent cry of pain.

Jongdae doesn’t deny their broken connection, but the thought of letting go of his feelings for Minseok weighs heavy on his soul.

Incarvillea, /incarvillea/ : noun

Also called Chinese trumpet flower, is a genus encompassing about 16 species of flowering plants, having pendent flowers shaped like a trumpet with varying colours such as pink, yellow or red, with possible gradients between these. Its main motif is “Separation”.

Didn’t he say it was strange to not go to Minseok’s windowsill yesterday?

It’s even stranger now.

Jongdae stands in front of a closed window with an opulently arranged flowerbox, a single flower in his hand. He thought he’d stop … but the sight of Minseok stepping into the car and leaving yesterday haunted him the whole night.

Maybe his mind can find some rest with the Trumpet flower on the windowsill, symbolizing the separation to his yearned beloved. A symbol for the ever-growing distance between Minseok and Jongdae.

A sigh leaves his lips, as it does a lot since Thursday.

His changed behaviour already raised suspicion in his brother, who luckily says nothing when Jongdae joins him to work in the glasshouse – even though he’s usually assigned to the greenhouse at saturdays.

But the time alone at the pond yesterday showed Jongdae that being on his own now isn’t the wisest thing, which is why he searches for the warm presence of his brother. Jongdeok asked him what happened, but no word had left Jongdae’s lips – shut close by the now constant pain in his heart.

His brother didn’t press further – but Jongdae feels his worried gaze on him throughout the whole day.

The path to their meadow isn’t filled with daydreams of a golden young Lord like the last time.

Jongdae’s hands feel cold in his pants pockets.

He doesn’t want to imagine the looks on Baekhyun’s and Kyungsoo’s faces when he tells them _the news_. Last week seems so far away, when he told them about Minseok’s new hair colour and now all he wants is to turn back time.

The makeshift arrow isn’t there anymore and it breaks Jongdae’s heart once more when he thinks about the beautiful meadow with its wild Pansies, so delicate and velvety.

Like Minseok, reminds him his unhelpful mind and lets his heart squeeze even tighter.

It only lightens when Jongdae hears a whispered “We’re here for you.” and feels the warm embrace of his friends around him.

The window is once again shut close and the Trumpet flower in his hand joins the two others from the previous days.

It’s strange how his mind recalls the times he shared sweet conversations with Minseok here. How this small spot in this grand garden grew so important to him.

How important Minseok is to him.

Jongdae’s heart thumps faster at the thought of the young Lord, but its longing beat is overrun by insecurity.

Jongdae obviously isn’t important to Minseok – at least not any longer.

He thought a lot about this, maybe Minseok’s interest was genuine at first but got lost and overshadowed by shiny nobles courting him. Jongdae had the thought once before, why keep the connection to a mage when a handsome rich person is wooing you? It’s only logical to end this.

To let go of Jongdae.

His heart screams in protest, still believing in Minseok. That the young Lord showed enough quiet signs of comfort during their conversations, seemingly treasuring the calm moments between them to not crumble under the pressure put onto his shoulders.

Their time together means something, if not to Minseok then to Jongdae at least.

Jongdae knows he’ll cherish their shared time and even though his heart can’t let go of his feelings for Minseok right now, they will cease and he will learn to love anew.

His tightly squeezing heart gets ignored.

When Jongdae shifts, his bed is creaking and the mattress is uncomfortable under his shoulder – worn down after years of use.

The picture of four Trumpet flowers, each one in a different withered state comes to his mind.

Wilted and sad – just like Jongdae feels by now.

He shares a strange connection with them, their red or yellow colour slowly turning grey and it mirrors Jongdae’s thoughts. It becomes difficult to avoid his parents, he doesn’t want them worrying over his lovesick state.

Jongdeok stopped asking after a few attempts and Jongdae is grateful, keeping to his brother’s side and trying to distract his glum mind. Somehow, his brother’s questions didn’t ask if his obvious sadness has to do with his crush – Jongdeok also never teased him about it once. He keeps a watchful eye on him instead, Jongdae knows.

Jongdae is glad they don’t share a bedroom or his brother would have known about Minseok by now, due to weak sobs leaving him during the night since Thursday.

Because, when it’s silent and nothing is there to distract him, Jongdae’s mind always goes back to the window. To Minseok.

His heart still thumps fast when he thinks back to his conversations with him. How he held his hands, worry in his golden eyes … if only it would have lasted.

Jongdae’s heart stings again and with a sigh, his gaze wanders to his nightstand.

Even in the dark he can make out the outline of the delicate fabric, a neatly folded rectangle. Its pale violet colour blurs with the darkness of his room, but Jongdae knows the embroidered initials at the corner anyways. And the rose leaf which is still enveloped by the handkerchief as well.

Jongdae couldn’t part from it.

It is a reminder of their fleeting moment of shared happiness.

It’s from Minseok.

And even if the young Lord doesn’t want to be with Jongdae, something small like this keeps him at his side and Jongdae’s heart doesn’t hurt as much anymore.

Edelweiß, ˈeɪdlvaɪs : noun

The genus of alpine flowering plants in the Asteraceae family, having white woolly leaves and small yellow clusters of florets. Main motif for alpinism, but is also used to express “Daring”, “Courage” and “Noble Purity”. If given to a beloved it is also a symbol of dedication.

Minseok’s hands are shaking.

The door in front of him appears like a wall, impossible to overcome.

But Minseok made a decision.

The talk he had with Luhan two days ago opened his eyes.

Luhan, the suitor he’s supposed to marry – as his mother told him on their travel.

Minseok had enjoyed the short visit of the young noble, their conversations weren’t filled with shallow questions as he feared. His mother had been pleased with him, scheduling this meeting to plan further details with the parents of Luhan.

Leaving out any possibility of neither Luhan nor Minseok deciding anything.

Minseok had expected this, but the other apparently didn’t.

Luhan tried to argue with their parents, only to be shut down by his father who made a vague comment, a low whisper of “It’s your duty, son.” - It awoke a curiosity in Minseok.

Sunday, during one of their walks through the garden, he had asked Luhan about the comment and his answer let him see the man in a different light.

Luhan didn’t want to marry him either.

They both shared a knowing look, expressing with short words that their heart’s loyalty belongs to another.

With a sigh, Luhan explained his beloved lives in another country and is endangered to lose his occupation if he’d marry a foreigner. His father is forcing Luhan to marry for the family’s company instead of being an affair – despite Luhan willingness to lose his standing for his love.

Minseok didn’t know what he could answer but to response with his own _situation_.

Luhan frowned and asked how exactly his mother had told Minseok to end things with Jongdae. After relaying her words, the other’s eyes got a strange glow and his next question still echoes in Minseok’s mind.

“Are you sure your mother knows the identity of your mage?”

It got Minseok questioning the conversation with his mother. Replaying her words in his mind all night, he realized she never voiced Jongdae’s name.

If she doesn’t know it’s Jongdae, she wouldn’t be able to carry out her threat – his mother can’t banish him. Thus, the small feeling of hope started to grow, leading into him rethinking his possibilities.

The main purpose of the marriage is to raise their reputation. As far as Minseok is informed, it’s to secure money with the dowry and a binding agreement concerning the trade for resources their company has with other nobles.

What could he do to achieve the same thing, without having to marry another noble?

The question followed Minseok throughout the day and the next. It lead him back to the main source of this - while he sat in the garden, surrounded by strange white flowers Minseok thought of Jongdae.

Of his caring, enthusiastic character and the admiration in his eyes. Of his constant support and his hard-working nature. Of his beauty, the open way to express his affection with the thing he knows best – flowers.

Startled by the last thought, Minseok had an epiphany – _the thing he knows best_.

With a grin he made his decision and prepared himself to face his biggest opponent.

Which brings him back to where he is now, in front of a door – the only thing separating him from his mother.

Hope has led him here, now only courage is the thing he needs to be victorious.

Minseok raises his hand and knocks.

The door opens and the face of his mother’s maid greets him. After a short exchange of words, her eyes widen and she nods, opening the door for him and stepping outside to give them privacy.

Minseok steps inside and is met with his mother sitting at a desk, a delicate white cape draped over her sharp shoulders. She turns his way, eyebrows raised in surprise.

“Shouldn’t you be with Luhan?”

Her voice sounds accusing and it helps to let determination boil through his veins, turning his face into a serious expression.

“No, I shouldn’t. I should be home, at the side of my beloved.”

Minseok sees how his words affect his mother, her shoulders straightening and red lips opening to respond. But he won’t let her, not this time.

“No, mother. I’m going to talk, you’re going to listen. It is time that I speak for myself.”

His mother’s lips curl in distaste.

“You force me to live with decisions you take away from me, but I won’t let myself be suppressed by you any longer.” Minseok inhales deeply, finding reassurance in the words he prepared. Feeling determined to win, he holds the cold gaze of his mother. “I don’t want this marriage. Luhan doesn’t want this marriage. Your threat to my beloved does not change that.”

He sees how his mother’s eyes narrow at the last words, her red lips open and Minseok can guess what she’s about to say – he lets her speak.

“If you prefer to ruin what your father and I have worked for, then fine. Go back to your _beloved_,” her voice is seething by now, “if you prefer dirt over gold.”

Minseok gives his best to ignore the insulting words, because he senses the chance to prove his assumption.

“Say his name.”

“Pardon?”

His mother’s golden eyes are wide, but they narrow when she sees the smirk on Minseok’s lips.

“Say his name, mother.”

She stays silent for a moment, her lips curled in displeasure.

“I don’t need a name to banish this boy.”

Minseok nods, he expected this answer.

“But you wouldn’t be able to recognize him either. Which means you have to rely on other servants to prove his identity, servants who you can’t trust because you refuse to see them as persons.”

There is no response, red lips form a grim line and her golden eyes are still narrowed. Minseok sees her anger at the truth in his words and knows it’s time to voice his offer.

“There are two options.”

She raises an eyebrow.

“The first option is to cancel this marriage. Let me return to him and I promise you, the company is going to flourish. I am capable of leading the company without another noble at my side. If there is one thing you did well, it was my education.” The words taste bittersweet on his tongue. “We don’t need to raise our reputation with a marriage, we don’t need to be dependent on the suitor’s company to keep our business flowing.” Minseok sighs. “You know I have the knowledge to raise our finances without a dowry, yet you force me into this marriage.”

His mother has her face schooled into a stern expression, brows tense and lips still pressed into a grim line – but she doesn’t say a word.

“If you decide to reject this, I can promise you another thing.” Minseok clears his throat. “If you decide to destroy my future as you plan to do right now, if you expect me to respect your decision and be the heir you always wanted – then you still have to watch me run our company. But as I said, you educated me well.” His voice turns cold. “Then you will have to watch me _ruin_ our company.”

His mother’s eyes open wide and her brows raise at his words.

“Are you threatening me?” Her voice sounds exasperated.

Minseok shakes his head. “No, I am simply showing you the two possible futures of our company. Of _my life_.”

She stays silent, but her eyes burn with golden anger. Minseok knows this is the moment, he feels his own face harden in determination and his hands stopped shaking long ago.

“I’ve made my decision, mother. It is your time to do the same.”

Narcissus, nɑːˈsɪsəs : noun

Also called daffodil or jonquil, the genus of spring-blooming plants in the amaryllis family, having cup- or trumpet-shaped flowers with white or yellow petals. The meaning depends on the species, ranging from “Unrequited Love” to “Affection Returned” and “Desire for Affection to be returned”.

Minseok’s steps are hurried and far from confident.

His neck hurts from the rushed car ride back, but his heart aches even more – squeezing tight with anxiety. Now that he faced the main problem with his mother, Minseok became aware of another and it’s the uncertain nature of this one which has him biting his lip in worry.

He rejected Jongdae – would the mage even want him back?

The thought stirred a deep fear in him, how could Minseok propose a future with Jongdae to his mother when he didn’t even consider Jongdae not wanting their relationship anymore? Minseok feels incredibly dumb and inconsiderate, his mind is in overdrive which words to say to the younger. He overthinks what to expect as well as to prepare himself to try to be respectful to whatever outcome their conversation will have.

If there is any conversation at all, because Minseok can’t find Jongdae.

The first thing he did when he exited the noisy car was to make his way to the rosarium – because it’s Thursday and usually Jongdae would be found around the many rose beds.

But he’s nowhere in sight, Minseok starts to get desperate and mixed with his anxiety to even talk with the younger – this whole _thing_ feels like a huge mountain he can’t possibly master.

Then, a green apron in the corner of his eye and his heart jumps, his feet now moving on their own accord. Minseok opens his mouth to speak, but when he is closer the person reveals themselves as not Jongdae – but a tall gardener, pruning a rose bush.

Minseok frowns, the guy looks familiar. Didn’t he see Jongdae next to him - looking up, squinting his eyes while laughing?

His staring got noticed, the gardener is looking at him with a questioning gaze now. Minseok schools his expression into a façade of nonchalance, but the second he speaks his voice and words betrays his agitated state of mind.

“Where is Jongdae?” The gardener’s eyes widen in surprise. “I need to talk to him, so, do tell me where he is.” The guy raises a brow, which unnerves Minseok even more. “It is important, please.”

A grumble reaches his ears, but a stern look of Minseok has the gardener hurrying for an answer.

“Jongdae is not well, he was only assigned to check the early bloomers today.” The tall gardener motions to the greenhouse. “But I don’t know if he’s still there.”

Minseok nods, thanks him and turns around to hurry to the greenhouse. With his face still in a controlled expression, Minseok gives his best to keep his anxiety at bay - the mention of Jongdae being unwell has his heart beating with worry.

It’s not the first time that he sees the greenhouse, but since it’s the main place for their gardeners to do their work without being seen by nobles, its appearance is constantly changing and adapting. There are always different flowers in front of the main entrance or empty flowerboxes stacked at one corner and gardeners carrying things around. Despite the ever-changing appearance outside, the scent which meets Minseok when he enters is always the same - earthy and somewhat _green_.

His presence is noticed immediately, a female gardener steps closer and after a nod of Minseok, she asks if he needs any help – what the reason for his visit may be.

Not wanting to arise any more attention than necessary, Minseok keeps his words short and asks of Jongdae’s whereabouts. The green eyes of the gardener widen and she stutters an answer, pointing into the direction of a hallway with four doors.

Minseok nods in gratitude and walks to the hallway. He looks into the first room, whose door is open and sees a dusty floor with several boxes stacked onto each other – but no Jongdae. The next door is open, too and Minseok halts in his steps – the sound of humming reaches his ears, a melancholic bittersweet melody. It tugs at his heartstrings and he can’t breathe for a second.

Jongdae.

Minseok hesitates, his mind torn between worry and hope. Listening to Jongdae’s voice first increases his fear of speaking to him, but when the melody turns into a sombre one - determination arises in Minseok once more. Determination to make Jongdae happy again, even if the younger doesn’t want him back.

After taking a deep breath, Minseok steps forward and looks into the storage room.

He can see Jongdae sitting on a footstool in a corner of the room and he’s gazing at his hands. They are brown, dirtied with earth but his fingertips turn something small around with tenderness and care in their movements.

Minseok takes another step and Jongdae’s head snaps up, eyebrows raised first in question and then in obvious surprise. His eyes appear glassy, with dark circles and his pale lips are opened in a gasp.

“Min-Minseok!”

His heart jumps, hearing Jongdae say his name aloud for the first time.

The younger seems to realize this as well, his brown eyes widen in shock and he starts to voice an apology – but Minseok interrupts him.

“Don’t apologize, Jongdae.” Minseok takes a deep breath, to be ready for a possible rejection. “I have to apologize, but most importantly – I need to talk with you. If you are willing to listen …”

Jongdae’s eyes get a strange look, but he nods.

Encouraged by the younger’s attention, Minseok steps closer and speaks again, his voice determined.

“I know my words can’t make up for how much I must have hurt you, but I need you to know that I regret what I’ve done. Please accept my apology, Jongdae – I never wanted to hurt you.”

But Jongdae shakes his head, eyebrows pointing downwards and his eyes sad.

“It’s okay, I understand. You’re a noble, I’m a mere mage. We were doomed from the beginning.” He looks down, fidgeting with the thing in his hand. “You don’t have to pretend your interest any longer. I accept your apology, but you don’t have to regret what’s happened.”

Minseok’s heart breaks at the vulnerable voice of the younger and he opens his mouth to deny, to prove he doesn’t _pretend_ – but Jongdae speaks again.

“I-I want to thank you for the time we’ve spent together, as short as it may was.” Jongdae looks back up, a depth in his gaze which has Minseok’s breath hitching. “I don’t regret the conversations, _us_. It was a sweet time which I will treasure well and-and I think I can accept you probably don’t do the same.”

“But I do!” Desperation starts to creep into Minseok’s voice once again. “Please believe me, our shared time is dear to me and I don’t regret it.”

The younger takes a deep breath, his voice now trembling.

“I appreciate your honesty with what you’ve done, my Lord. But please be honest with yourself as well.”

Minseok frowns, Jongdae’s use of his title makes him feel the distance between them. Cold and gaping, filled with insecurity and hurt.

“No, please believe me, Jongdae.” He steps closer, eyebrows tense and hands starting to shake. “I want this, _us_.”

“But for how long?” Jongdae’s voice sounds hurt. “How long will you last until you give in to your parent’s wishes? Or-or to accept another noble’s courting?”

Minseok shakes his head, but smiles – this fear he can resolve.

“My mother will pose no threat any longer.”

Jongdae’s eye grow wide once more.

“I spoke to her, we each made a decision.” He locks eyes with Jongdae, smiling and full of determination. “I chose you, Jongdae. If you are still willing to have me.”

“B-but how?” Jongdae looks confused. “I thought your parents wanted you to-to marry a noble?”

“To raise our prestige and aid me in leading the company.” Minseok nods. “But I don’t need that, I need you. Your support, your care – not another business driven noble.”

Minseok can see the moment the little hope left in Jongdae emerges and he starts to believe – his eyebrows rise, brown eyes turn wide and his mouth opens and closes.

“Is it true?” He whispers. “I didn’t … I thought …” Jongdae looks close to tears now. “I didn’t dare to hope anymore …”

“And I am ashamed to have caused your lost hope. I deeply regret hurting you, but I promise you to never leave you again unless you want me to.” He clears his throat. “I know this isn’t the proper way to ask this and I don’t have any gift to gain your approval nor flowers to compliment your beauty.”

Minseok takes one final step forward, stretching out his hand to Jongdae.

“You said you accept my apology, but now that you know the possibility the future holds – I ask of you, Jongdae, do you accept my courtship?”

Jongdae looks stunned, his brown eyes still shining with unshed tears. His gaze wanders from Minseok’s face to his outstretched hand and curled lips open and close, searching for words.

Minseok knows this is the moment.

He stays silent – giving them both time, for Jongdae to decide and for Minseok to brace himself for a rejection.

But Jongdae’s reaction isn’t what he expected.

Instead of answering, Jongdae stands up and places the thing he held in his hand onto Minseok’s open palm – it’s a flower bulb.

Minseok’s eyebrows rise high and he sends Jongdae a confused look. Does he …?

Giggles reach his ears and his heart skips a beat when he sees Jongdae smiling, upper lip curling and eyebrows dancing to the tune of his laugh.

Jongdae looks at him with shining eyes, which settle Minseok’s worry and allow hope to grow again.

“This is a Jonquil. It regrows after it bloomed and … and it blooms again.”

Jongdae’s smile is shy now, but he steps forward and takes Minseok’s hand in his, curling their fingers around the bulb. Minseok feels entranced, mind caught by rough skin on his and eyes set on their joined fingers – Jongdae’s soil dirtied and Minseok’s pale.

“And I think …” Jongdae’s voice is quiet, almost a whisper. “I think we can do the same. This is our second chance … I accept, my Lord.”

Minseok looks up and sees warm eyes, which fill him with light and joy and comfort - overwhelmed by the emotions, all he can mutter is:

“Please, call me Minseok.”

Jongdae looks surprised, but he nods and his lips slowly stretch into a big smile, until his eyes are scrunched into crescents and an endearing dimple appears.

The sight brings a warmth to Minseok’s cheeks and he’s filled with happiness and there’s a _need_ \- his hands itch to touch more, to have Jongdae in his arms.

“May I hold you?”

Surprised, Jongdae nods and Minseok closes the distance between them, embraces him. His hands leave the flower bulb in Jongdae’s grasp and they find the small of his back as if they’ve never done another thing.

Brown eyes full of promise and warmth and affection meet his, shining like stars.

_Beautiful_.

Jongdae blushes and averts his gaze, nuzzling his nose into Minseok’s neck while he snakes his arms around his shoulders, the flower bulb still in one hand.

“Stop staring, Minseok~” A low muffled whine can be heard next.

Minseok chuckles and his heart grows warm at the playful tone, saying his name. He loosens his grip around the tiny waist and distances himself to look into Jongdae’s eyes once more.

“Say it again, please.”

Jongdae looks confused for a moment, but then he smiles – tender warmth in his eyes. He tightens his grip on Minseok’s shoulders and brings their bodies closer and Minseok notices endearing moles on his skin. Minseok also realizes how their noses almost touch.

A whisper leaves curled lips.

“Keep me close, _Minseok_.”

Phlox, flɒks : noun

The genus contains 67 species, having a sweet scent and varying in colours from pale blue, purple to pink and bright red or white. It is used to express **“Our souls are united”**.


End file.
